


when the smoke clears

by woopsimmelissa



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 12:51:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5091437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woopsimmelissa/pseuds/woopsimmelissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a heist gone bad, ending in one too many close calls, an explosion, a car chase, and Joel screaming into his walkie-talkie over the sounds of gunfire, Bruce and James both know how the rest of the night will go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when the smoke clears

After a heist gone bad, ending in one too many close calls, an explosion, a car chase, and Joel screaming into his walkie-talkie over the sounds of gunfire, Bruce and James both know how the rest of the night will go.

Adam will tuck himself into their shared bed with Sean, neither of them sleeping but instead pressing their bodies tight together, trying to feel something, anything, other than the ache set low in their guts. They’ll talk quietly to one another, not about anything important, just soft and quiet nothings to remind the other that he’s not alone.

Lawrence and Matt will sit, stiff, on the loveseat in their living room. They won’t turn on any lights, the soft glow from the kitchen making it just bright enough for them to see the coffee table in front of them and the bottle of carelessly chosen liquor on it. They never touch, besides the hands that lie between them, laced tightly together and unmoving. Occasionally, they’ll lift the tumblers that sit in their laps or perched on the arm of the seat to their mouths, or lean forward and grab the quickly draining bottle in front of them to refill their glasses. Lawrence will take large chugs and Matt will take slow pulls because Matt is only drinking to numb himself, but Lawrence drinks to forget.

Joel will wander around the penthouse, making laps from room to room with no real goal. He’ll sometimes pop his head into the bedroom to check in on Sean and Adam, giving them a tired smile the times that they raise their heads over the blankets to peer at him. Sometimes he’ll talk out loud, to whoever can hear him. He never gets a reply, doesn’t expect or need one. His aim is to keep the “what if’s” that keep seeping through his skin away, keep them from pooling at the tips of his fingers and making his body heavy and his mind foggy.

So when they unlock the front door and lay kisses on heads, lips, and cheeks, James and Bruce just watch as everyone files away to different parts of their home. After everyone is out of sight, James starts toward one of the three spare bedrooms the spacious apartment provides them. He doesn't look back to see if Bruce is following him, but he can feel his presence, can hear the light footsteps padding down the wood floors of the hallway.

Bruce closes the door behind himself and they don't make it any further into the room before James is there, occupying Bruce’s space. He strips his shirt off and leaves it where it lands before pressing the length of his torso against Bruce and kissing into him. It's more teeth than lips and their hands are constantly moving, touching any exposed skin. Eventually, they're breathing each other's air, hot breath with a hint of promise sliding over them. Bruce pushes his body off the door and moves his hands to grip James' hips and lead him backward towards the long unused bed.

The springs squeak under them as they land hard on the mattress and scramble to the headboard. The moves they make are nowhere near calculated, fingers fumbling along buttons and noses bumping every other kiss. They manage to strip themselves down, but even being as close as humanly possible is not enough. The sensation of skin on skin is still just as unsatisfying as being fully clothed. They feel like they’re simultaneously burning and freezing.

Despite Bruce’s shaking hands, he manages to reach their half empty bottle of lube they’d stored in the nightstand long ago. They work together as a well oiled machine, James flipping over into his stomach while Bruce warms the lube in his fingers. James is already whining before Bruce can get a finger inside of him, but once he does he can hear James’ sigh of relief. Bruce tries to give him time to adjust but after a few seconds, James is already working his hips back, wordlessly pleading for more.

They work like this for a few more minutes, Bruce working his fingers in and out of James as James works his hips in time with Bruce’s too-slow rhythm. Earlier than Bruce would have liked, James is moaning a quiet “Please, fuck me. Please, Bruce, I need you.” Bruce pumps his now three fingers in and out of James a few more times before finally pulling them out. He wipes his hands on the off-white sheets before grabbing the bottle that had been discarded to the other end of the bed.

James can feel the shifting of the bed as Bruce slicks himself and presses his body flush against James’ back. Bruce’s cock feels impossibly big against his ass, but the slow burn of Bruce sliding into him is just what he needs to take the sting from the night out of him. He reaches his hand back and pushes Bruce impossibly closer to him.

Soon enough, they’re working in tandem, their hips rolling together in slow waves. The room is quiet other than the sounds of skin on skin, sometimes punctuated by a small “fuck” or “so good” or “more”. James can feel Bruce’s breath on the nape of his neck getting heavier and heavier and his strokes getting more and more out of rhythm. James knows he’s incredibly close but won’t let himself cum until James does.

So James pushes his back up, guiding Bruce to sit up on his knees and bring James along with him. James guides the hand that had been anchored on his hip the entire time down to his since untouched cock. James moans deep in his throat as Bruce quickly strokes him. Instinctively, Bruce brings a hand up to James’ throat as well and lets it sit there, letting the weight of it against his airway push him over the edge.

James cums with a sob, coating Bruce’s hand and his own lower stomach. At the same time, Bruce bites down on his shoulder and moans around the patch of skin in his mouth as he fucks up into James a few more times before finally letting his orgasm flow through him. They sit like that for a minute, pressed together with their chests working in tandem to catch up with their breathing.

Eventually they separate, not worrying about the mess they made as they flop forward on top of the rumpled sheets. They won’t sleep tonight. In fact, they won’t sleep for the next week, not until they’ve figured out why this heist went so bad. Instead they’ll lay tangled together, never bothering to move under the blankets. They’ll only move occasionally to sweep a lock of sweat dampened hair from the other’s forehead, or run a thumb along their matching tattoos on their hip bones, the other’s initials written in their handwriting with a shitty homemade tattoo gun, fading from years of wear.

They won’t speak, won’t need to. They both know how the other is feeling. They know that even though their world is rough and not everyone makes it out alive, when the smoke clears they’ll be together until there’s nothing left.

**Author's Note:**

> find me at creephaus.tumblr.com!!


End file.
